Ten Lives to the Fall
by Sazerac
Summary: HPxover. With Voldemort in public eyes, Hogwarts can’t get any more interesting, can it? Wrong. Throw in two new ‘students’ and the most unlikely DADA teacher, then add the mafia and a dash of Rokudo Mukuro, and what do you get? AU, w/plot --not crack--
1. Chapter 1

_Kora!_ Look, at there is a **KHRxHP** **crossover**! Read it, _kora!_

(This will be set after the **Ring Battles** and the time I'll call the _Missing Years_ [which is not canon, _kora_] and also fictional Seventh Year after **AU** of **Book Five**)

_Edit 14-11-09: Fixed a few consistency errors._

* * *

**Ten Lives to the Fall**

**Chapter One**

In the seventh carriage of the bright red steam train known as the Hogwarts Express, only one figure was awake, and that figure belonged to Tsunayoshi Sawada.

Tsunayoshi, or Tsuna, on his part, was aimlessly staring out the window, watching the scenery go by. His mind took that opportunity to wander, and he automatically thought back to the first moment he was told about his Mafia heritage, like he had done so many times before.

"_Ehh--! I'm the Vongola Family's tenth generation Mafia boss?!"_

And then shortly thereafter he met the silver-haired teenager, no, young man that was currently beside him in a fight staged by his then-home tutor, Reborn. Hayato Gokudera turned out to be the most devoted person he had ever met, and then some.

As if he could feel Tsuna's gaze on his currently sleeping form or his musings, Hayato shifted slightly and mewled.

"-enth…" came from his lips during the pride-damning sound.

Tsuna smiled softly. His right-hand man was even willing to try and serve him during sleep, a time of rest. That took a depth of loyalty others didn't have, and that dedication merely increased over the time in which he brought his Guardians to Italy for further training.

The next Guardian to join his Family – Takeshi Yamamoto – was of the strange sort. He originally showed a naïveté towards all of them and their motives by pretending it was all a game and that weapons – deadly, _real_ weapons – were nothing more than toys. Now, Takeshi was on the way to becoming one of their most skilled representatives in combat, and his _Shigure Soen_ style something to be feared. At that moment he was currently on a mission in Istanbul, and when not on missions, training with the Varia swordsman Superbi Squalo.

The rest of them were, really, added during the Ring Battles against the Varia, where his father had chosen them and brought them into the Mafia world by force. Ryohei Sasagawa, extreme Lion-Puncher and boxing-obsessed maniac, now showing the potential as a silent but deadly infiltrator. Lambo of the Bovino Family, previously a five-year-old crybaby but presently undergoing training to bring him to the standard that he would be upon his twenties; introducing him to the _Elettrico Cornata_ and perfecting his_ Cuoio_.

His other two Guardians were of the eccentric sort and not exactly the type to socialize. The last he'd heard of his Cloud, Kyouya Hibari, was that he was accepting and completing missions at speeds almost too fast to comprehend, though his motives were unknown. Chrome Dokuro's status was completely unknown, having left the Vongola base a month and a half ago presumably on Mukuro Rokudo's orders, Ken Joshima and Chikusa Kakimoto disappearing at about the same time. Mukuro himself was sentenced to remain in the Vendiche prison for a while yet, but Tsuna had the Ninth Vongola Boss aid him in finding a way to release him as soon as possible.

The two years since then had changed him too. His eyes, whilst still large and absorbing everything around him, gained a darker shade from having seen too much; far too much. His mouth was now set in a firmer line and every time he looked at people it was apparently as if he was seeing _through_ them and into their thoughts, rather than at them – or so Ryohei had said, after an extended visit to Egypt. Tsuna also hadn't found the time to cut his hair at all, and it resulted in his spikes becoming thinner, slightly longer and more plentiful, his fringe barely brushing his eyelids. It always took so long to grow due to how thick it was.

And now he was on his own mission, given to him via the Ninth himself out of an urgency he had never seen, related to the strange situation they found themselves in. For a while, the Vongola and their Allied Families found their public businesses and projects as targets by an unknown group, costing them tens of billions of dollars. Naturally, as the Vongola was the largest and most influential within that circle, they had been automatically turned to and held the responsibility of trying to prevent any more disaster from happening, and fast.

Even with their resources, it had taken a while until questioning finally seemed to pay off. One poor person admitted that yes, he knew who was doing this because of that skull-and-snake trademark; yes, this person was in charge of a group on the opposing side of Wizardry Law and publically had an ambition to cleanse the world of non-magical people; and _yes_, witches and wizards existed in this era.

Once they knew what type of people they were looking to question, it was truly a surprise that they had about a fourth of the Mafia to comb through as they were all users of this magic. They got their results and a new target surprisingly quickly within weeks, as it all seemed to be common knowledge in their world. To say that Tsuna was startled that _he_ of all people were chosen to remove this threat would have been an understatement.

After all, it wasn't every day you were told your next goal was to infiltrate a prestigious school for magic.

--

"_Tsunayoshi." The Ninth greeted, after Tsuna completed all the formalities required during a meeting between the Vongola heir and the current boss. "I have called you because you will be sent on a mission that is of the utmost importance to all of us. I presume you are aware of the economic crisis we are currently in?"_

_Tsuna nodded, not trusting himself to speak in front of this imposing, confident aura._

"_I have discovered that there is apparently a young man in this Wizarding World who seems to have the possibility of defeating the 'Lord Voldemort' that is causing all of this, as the two of them have faced off on more than one occasion and are still alive at this time. You should know that no one else has done this before, let alone get out _alive_ and sane the first time from your own efforts in this case._

"_He is Harry Potter, age 17. We have checked his records and they state that he is currently living with his aunt, uncle and cousin in Little Whinging, Surrey, due to the fact that his parents had died in a car crash. They seem to be strangely missing important details, and further questioning of Francesco of the Gesso Family has given us the reason why._

"_His parents had actually died when Voldemort went after him at the age of one, his father and mother both sacrificing themselves to save him, and rebounding the Killing Curse to vanquish the Voldemort instead. He now attends a school hidden in Scotland called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and attends his seventh and final year._

"_Your job is to infiltrate the school under the guise of being a child who refused to have anything to do with the Wizarding World due to a traumatic incident he had undergone in his childhood. As this is a very delicate and important long-term mission, you will also be accompanied by your right-hand man, Gokudera Hayato, and my son, Xanxus."_

"_What?!" Tsuna exclaimed suddenly, before clasping his hands in front of his mouth. "I mean, I'm sorry for my act of insolence and display of disrespect in front of you, sir."_

_The Ninth chuckled. "Now, you know you don't have to be so uptight around me, _si_? Also, there is a genuine reason for choosing those two specifically, as the ones accompanying you are legitimate wizards. Close your mouth, Tsunayoshi, or your face might stay that way forever."_

_Tsuna did so. _Why hadn't Hayato told him?

"_My son, it turned out, refused to accept his magical skills and somehow found a way to seal them off with the Flame of Wrath, where he simply used them as fuel and energy rather than choose to harness them in other ways. He was the only one available that can fill the position of being strong enough to aid you, possessing a magical ability and high up enough in the ranks to satisfy the bosses of the other Allied Families in his reports as supervisor._

"_Gokudera Hayato and his sister – _yes_, Tsunayoshi – were simply those who refused to live their lives in magical society. He was homeschooled in the basic control of his magic by his father, but upon his mother's death refused to do any more and found a way to remove his magical energy involving the use of dynamite and healing. His sister, however, did attend the school for about two years before she felt that the life of a hitman was far more beneficial._

"_As I was saying before your interruption," Tsuna blushed at this, and bowed his head in embarrassment. "The full details of your fake identity and the mission are in the folder on my desk which I expect you to remember all the details of. You are to go to the Poison Scorpion Bianchi and learn more about the Wizarding World in preparation as you will be under strict scrutiny. New fitted uniforms will be sent and delivered to you as soon as they are gathered, and your school supplies will be done the same way._

"_I'm afraid the matter of your wand requires a personal visit to the alley in Britain the magical folk shop in, as it is something that cannot be sent to you, but that should be a good opportunity to ensure that your identity is in place and flawless. That should be all the information you need at the moment, all the rest is in the folder."_

"_Sir," Tsuna asked, knowing the answer but needing conformation. "What is the mission's label and target?"_

"_Elimination of the one who is behind the cause of our economical failures, and to take any means necessary in doing so. Backup may be called if you feel it is so required, as Xanxus is not to interfere as supervisor unless he feels it is absolutely necessary."_

_In reply, Tsuna nodded determinedly, and made to leave._

"_Oh, and Tsunayoshi?" The Ninth added, as he picked up the folder and gave it a cursory glance, before handing it over. "Good luck."_

--

He had had a month. It was one month to remember and memorize the theory all the curricular spells were revolved around, and a month to learn the basics of the Wizarding World to effectively use during conversation.

Tsuna reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, rolling it between his fingers in a contemplative manner. It was very slim and very smooth, except for the two small, firey-orange stones implanted in the middle, at the end of the pointed grip. The grip itself was fluid, leafed with a thin gold strip at the base, shining against the pitch-black wandwood.

But what he found most curious was the cursive, golden V at the bottom, a marker of his Family.

--

_Tsuna waved the first wand he was offered through the air awkwardly, and was certainly surprised when a flurry of multicoloured sparks came out the end and a calm feeling washed over him._

"_Ah, that wand, I see. I thought so. Ivy, 9 3/4 inches, core of a phoenix flight feather, supple yet sturdy. Good at all general magicks, but it prefers slightly more advanced levels of spellcastory. The core is the strangest thing; usually my wands are made of phoenix tail feathers, but this phoenix came to me and pulled out the largest feather on each wing to give to me with a look in its eye that said, _use them well_. Your wand contains the one from the left wing and was originally intended for another, but the wand rejected him and instead accepted the sister wand made from the other feather."_

_Ollivander looked over all three of the wands they held, now that they had each been chosen; Tsuna, Hayato (Aspen, 11 inches, heartstring of a Hebridean Black dragon, fluid, a wand for general usage and slightly more preferable at Charms) and Xanxus (Hawthorn, 13 inches, core of Manticore fur, temperamental, ideal for transfiguration) simply watching (or staring) him back as he paced along the shop floor, subconsciously waiting for a form of dismissal._

"_I tell people," he said abruptly, "that all my wands are made with three different variables; length, wood, and core; but in truth there are actually four. The fourth variable is the catalyst. Each variable has a different purpose in the wand itself, and bind together to form the completed product._

"_Firstly, the length functions in strength. If the person's magic is too fierce after being drawn out of the barrier that runs along the skin, they need a longer, sturdier wand to cope with all the power at once. If their magic is weaker or is drawn out smoothly, the shorter length does the same thing._

"_The wood acts as a body to dull, or in some cases, amplify the raw power and change it to something more workable for spells, otherwise the magic is more likely to go out of control and cause potential harm._

"_The core acts as a stabilizer that ensures the magic only runs through it and it itself. If the magic runs through the wood, it can do anything from cracking the wand to exploding it and causing irreparable damage._

"_The catalyst converts the person's magic into something easier to handle, and what differentiates my wands from those of other people. Each wand has a thin and fragile web of this inside their wands, and it is made of something I call Liquid Fire. There are seven types and colours of catalysts; orange, red, blue, yellow, purple, green and indigo. The rainbow, or as you more commonly know them as, young Vongola, the person's _Flame_."_

--

Tsuna absently looked around the compartment after remembering the stubbornness the old man had shown after his unexpected speech and reluctance to answer any of their questions, when his eyes settled on the almost-snarling Xanxus draped on the seats opposite Hayato and himself. He almost snickered as the typically fearsome look on the Varia boss' face made him look like a kitten during his sleep.

His mind wondered for a moment whether the school would allow Xanxus to wear his usual Varia coat and matte leather pants, unable to imagine him in a robe. Then, he reflected that the look on his face if he was told that he could not would most likely rival the comical one he'd had on earlier when they exited the Ninth's office and heading on their way to the new Allied Families' Apparation Unit for transportation to the train station at King's Cross.

--

"_Xanxus?"_

"_Shut up, stinking trash."_

_Tsuna frowned. There must have been something Xanxus seriously wasn't pleased about if he was still sulking about it even with a month of time between meetings. Hayato glared at him, saying that the Tenth all the conversation he wanted, but he found himself ignored by the both of them._

"_What are you using for cover anyway? You weren't mentioned in my folder at all, except that you were going to 'watch us from a distance' and 'report and fulfil duties as supervisor'."_

_Xanxus muttered something incoherent and almost guaranteed to be profane, but Hayato seemed to catch the end of the sentence._

"_Did you say, '_teaching stupid fucking trash'_?"_

_Tsuna blinked. Did he hear that right?_

"_I'm going to be a damn teacher that is fucking teaching this 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' to the entire _fucking_ school." Xanxus growled quickly, glancing at a visible sheet in his folder that was labelled 'Fifth Year Course Notes' in surprisingly neat Italian._

_Tsuna couldn't help it. He laughed. The mental image of _Xanxus_ in front of a crowd of students _teaching_ them rather than scaring them away or trying to murder them very violently was just about the funniest thing he'd heard in a while – or ever. Plus, it would've been worse than babysitting because even though the whole visualization of Xanxus in a frilly pink apron was probably the best in the world, as a teacher he had to make sure they _learnt_ and _remembered_ whatever he was saying._

_It was with ease in which he dodged the bullet fired at him with an X-Gun, and Tsuna clutched his sides at the situation as he knew that Xanxus had to act nice and not use any form of violence, or risk being fired and compromise the entire mission, even as supervisor._

_And a nice Xanxus was…well…_

…_the _damn_ funniest thing he'd ever heard._

--

During his silent laughter at the memory, several things happened all at once.

The first thing was that their compartment door's latch was clicked open, and it was only a matter of time before the blurry figures behind the window slid the door.

The second was that Hayato abruptly woke up from his nap and took a position in front of his Tenth, as if waiting for an incoming onslaught.

And the third was that his Dying Will Flame lit up on its own.

* * *

And chapter one has finished, _kora_!

Oh, and I'm only doing these impersonations to stay slightly more interesting and to train my characterization, _kora_!

_Kora_, what did you think? What about the idea of Xanxus as the Defence teacher, _kora_? Or Tsuna and Hayato?

I'll be trying to stick to fortnightly updates also, _kora!_ You better thank me for that! (Unless I go mysteriously MIA -- check my profile for information, _kora!_)

Ciao, _kora!_

* * *

If you don't send your opinion to me, _kora_, I tell you I never pass up on the chance to test my aim with my anti-tank missiles. **Review**, _kora!_

**l  
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	2. Chapter 2

I'm sorry I've been away for so long~

Thanks to Yami Dragoness of Dark, Viviene, anonymousgirl028, Sarloos, CH0C0CANDYZ, Shinnie The Meanie, Kanashi, phppsmss, akuma-river, suckitblue, Crimson Cupcake, yumeniai, TenchiSaWaDa, phantomdare1, Tsubasa96, William Bexley, plummy-kins, tsuna, Shiro-chan, blackcat33133, Embers of Inspiration [x2], fg7dragon, Eternal Dumas and Adel Mortescryche for the reviews~

To preserve space, my Author's Notes are at the bottom. Please read them, as they contain extremely important information!

* * *

**Ten Lives to the Fall**

**Chapter Two**

The compartment door slid open, and behind it was a girl with sharp eyes and a badge affixed on her robes. Her posture said that she knew what she was doing and she was proud of that duty, her eyes sweeping over the cloth fixings that were over their windows as she entered rather than the standard velvet curtains, those having been pushed to the side.

When she looked at Hayato in front of him, she seemed to take in his position at once; one knee bent, other shoulder leaning forward and opposite arm behind so as to grab a weapon if she turned out to be a threat. He looked very alert and his flickering eyes seemed to be calculating every variable at speeds too high to comprehend.

Long before the moment Hayato shifted his footing in correction of his stance, Tsuna knew he needed to take action. On her chest, framed by stray wavy brown locks that looked as if they were once bushy, her Head Girl badge was easily visible and it would not have been good to get into trouble so early.

"Stand down, Hayato."

Tensing slightly at the words, Hayato kept his position but turned his head in order to reply with the both of them in his peripheral vision. "But, Tenth --!" He broke off in visible surprise as he seemed to notice the other's Dying Will Flame and the serious expression on his face.

"Stand _down_."

The girl took this moment to interject. "Besides, casting spells is not allowed on the Hogwarts Express, so reaching for a wand has no use anyway."

Tsuna could practically see the retort on his right-hand man's lips in reply as he was about to tell her that it wasn't a wand he was reaching for but one of the many switchblades he now carried on him. They had been added to his arsenal during his own training, in the case that his dynamite would be rendered useless either due to the enemy's own interference or that his target was far too close for it to have any effect without placing his own life at risk. Currently, the problem was that there was no means of setting them alight.

_Remember what your orders were, Hayato. I will _not _have you compromising the entire mission_. The disappearance of the tense posture was enough to tell Tsuna that the message in his eyes had been conveyed. Irritably slumping down in his seat, Hayato lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply but never removed his hand from his pocket.

" --any trouble, 'mione?" A new voice came from the doorway, and then an ungracefully lanky red-head appeared beside the girl, his own badge shining in the strangely angled light.

"Not really, Ron. I just came here to tell them that they need to remove these cloths from the windows."

"We like our privacy." Tsuna answered to the question that sat unasked, and _coincidentally_ not mentioning that they were to shield from snipers – magical and muggle alike. "Is it so wrong?"

"Who -- _blimey_, your head's on fire!"

The redhead's – Ron – exclamation had Tsuna remember the problem of explaining his Dying Will Flame away. Even though the haze over his emotions gave him a third-person perspective upon the entire situation and made it easier to avoid his panic, he had no pre-prepared explanation for this unexpected development. He needed to stall for time.

"On fire? Is it on fire, Hayato?" He took the mirror his right-hand had suddenly had in his hands as if he had read his mind, both of them knowing the question was rhetorical. And then he frowned at the reflection to continue his act, whilst really checking how far this pseudo-Dying Will had grown. "It doesn't seem to be on fire."

"I think he's talking about the _flame_, Tenth." Hayato 'offered', purposely being vague when referring to the name to avoid any discrepancies in Tsuna's quickly-made explanation. As for the explanation itself, Tsuna was completely out of ideas.

"You mean this flame?" The question was directed at Ron, the girl beside him obviously trying to discreetly examine it without being caught but failing miserably.

"Yeah. Hermione, you seen anything like it before?"

"It's nothing I've ever read about…but it's odd, the way it's on your head and you don't seem to feel it. And your eyes seem to reflect it almost, with the way they look like shallow pools of liquid fire…"

Tsuna turned away, as if pained, his mind finally flashing a possibility. "It would be unlikely for you to have seen it before anyway." With a pause there, it would seem as if he was uncomfortable with the statement. He hoped Hayato would notice his cues.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It's... something that has been... gifted to me, down my family line, after... after my..."

He knew, rather than saw out of the corner of his eye, that Hayato's own flickered in realization that he would attempt 'that' technique to get them off his back; one of the many default partner responses that were drilled into their heads at the last moment in the case that their mission was about to terminate. And quickly, his right-hand began to wave 'no' signals to the two prefects while in actual fact waiting for and studying their reactions to see the type of people they were dealing with.

There were three groups, really. Those who were too curious or nosy for their own good and asked anyway, despite knowing that it was an uncomfortable topic for the one in question; those who were curious but visibly hesitant, which showed that they either knew someone who or watched someone be involved in those touchy relationship issues; and those who dismissed the matter and didn't ask. They were the ones to really look out for, as they were either experienced information gatherers or people who were once directly involved in the situation themselves, and therefore able to be empathetic towards them. The latter were also unpredictable and had to be watched carefully, as they were much harder to read.

Hermione didn't stop her questioning despite the small but muffled gasp from Ron. Check, groups one and two. Another voice neared the two at the door, saying something about 'coming back from the bathroom', and Tsuna noticed unruly black hair, and once he turned around in mock-irritation, he recognized the new face from his files as their target, Harry Potter.

"Why would you _care!_" Tsuna snapped, staring each and every one of them in the eye. "How could you just stand there and ask _things like those_, while you wizards do just about every single thing with your magic?! I'm _only_ here because my _guardian_ was concerned about my ability to control my magic when everything is just _fine!_ Why won't you understand that the world doesn't revolve around _you_, but everyone else and muggles alike --"

"_WOULD YOU JUST FUCKING SHUT UP?!_" The roar came from a furious Xanxus, with a glare that could stop a lot of people in their tracks. When he was pleased with the lack of noise, he turned to the door, where a lot of students were trying to listen in on the drama happening in their compartment. "And _you_, fucking trash; either come out into the open and listen instead of sneaking or _go back to your own stinking compartments and do whatever it is you shitty brats do nowadays!_"

Predictably, all the students had disappeared long before the tirade was finished, Harry, Ron and Hermione the only ones remaining and trying to realign their general wincing faces.

"Who're you?" Ron asked bluntly, ever the polite one.

Xanxus wasn't pleased with the question, but answered shortly anyway. "Your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, trash."

They seemed to be in shock. "_You're_ teaching DADA?!"

"Hn."

Hermione seemed to want to make things right. "I'm sure he's a _good teacher_, Harry. He's a bit like Moody."

Tsuna heard him grumble something along the lines of _who was a fake and didn't swear so much_. Mentally, he leafed once again through the photocopied pages and newspaper clippings that Bianchi had found, and recalled a rather strange article from _The Quibbler_ that mentioned the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from three years ago.

"Anyway!" Hermione exclaimed a little too quickly as Xanxus' glare increased in killing intent. "We passed the boundary of Hogwarts when I first came in, so you'd better get changed before you go up to the castle."

And then they left faster than they had come in.

Hayato got up on unspoken command and latched the door shut, before turning to Tsuna. "That was too close."

Ignoring the voiced thoughts and how they mirrored his own, Tsuna noticed Xanxus making to lie back down against his own row of seats but stop halfway and growl in realization. "Fuck -- you woke me up on purpose, didn't you?"

An angelic smile was his reply, the Flame dulling his second thoughts. "And what if I did? It makes the 'I have not known you before' act so much more believable."

Snarling something extremely rude, Xanxus fell to sleep moments later.

Tsuna looked at the person beside him, who had a large smile on his face. He opened his trunk and pulled out one of his uniforms while bracing for the excited outburst that was sure to come from his Right-Hand, but it didn't come. Rather, Hayato seemed to have some thin measure of self-control gained from the one and a half years they had been separated and in their individual training regimes, his speech enthusiastically pleased but still spoken with a thin fragment of calm.

"That was brilliant, Tenth. As always, the Tenth is --"

He was interrupted by one look of _those eyes_ that saw right through him and calculated his motives in an instant, Tsuna choosing to take this moment to speak for himself.

"Hayato, do not forget that I am acting as your adopted brother on this mission, and that I have no standing of rank that is higher than yours. In fact, your rank could be considered higher than my own, since your birthday is a month before mine."

It was obvious that the thought hadn't occurred before, as a slack-jawed mouth became his reply. The next moment, Hayato was curled up in the corner of his seat as far away as possible, muttering how it was impossible that _he_ held a rank higher than the _Tenth_ of all people, the rest of his mumblings becoming incoherent. Even when Tsuna threw him his own uniform after tucking his gloves under his arm, the depression remained far too visible.

"Slap me, Tenth." Staring at his right-hand's face he studied it intently for a brief moment to see if the statement was serious, before he did so with only a brief hesitation. Tear tracks ran down Hayato's face as it turned out to be too painful to handle.

Somehow, Tsuna managed to coax him into his own uniform, eying the full-length zipper on the front with a sceptic eye. There were also half-length zippers on the underside of Hayato's sleeves, and his hood could be detached if he pleased. It was entirely black, as per regulations, but he was informed that both the edges of the uniform and the lining would change colour once he was Sorted into a house.

Tsuna's own uniform was created in intent to give him a larger aura. Built just like his Right-Hand's, in that it was black, changed colour once Sorted and made with a slightly firmer material than normal so that it felt more like a coat, that was where the similarities ended. The zipper he had over his chest was half length, robes flaring out to reveal a normal set of trousers and a dress shirt underneath. His own sleeves reached slightly past his fingertips so that he would have been able to wear his X-Gloves underneath them if necessary, the fabric able to hide them from view.

"We need to see how far exactly this pseudo-Flame has progressed, Tenth," Hayato said, seemingly recovered from his previous situation.

Putting them on, the Gloves changed from their 27-mitten form to the sleek silver and black domed form. This was good, because that meant that it was possible for him to wear them at all times and still do everyday tasks with them, but to see if they could actually catch on fire was the most important point.

It took a lot more focusing than his old form, but he managed to light them in the end. He tested its capabilities. How easy it was to change the size of the flames and how finely he could control them; Whether it was still possible to go into both Zero-Point and his Revised Breakthrough; How fine a flame he was able to produce; Checking how powerful the flames could become to see if he could still fly.

Hayato was looking at him expectantly as he extinguished both flames, having completed all the tests possible in the cramped compartment without miraculously waking Xanxus up.

"It's weaker than normal."

At the unexpected response, there was a considering look in reply. But Tsuna continued, falling into his seat.

"I can bring it to the strength it normally is, but just having the flame there saps my energy far more than it did before. It seems more… stubborn."

"Maybe it's distracted." Hayato mused as the train began to slow. "The wards around the school might have a negative effect on you."

Tsuna nodded, half-heartedly agreeing as he allowed the muffled sounds from outside their compartment sink into his mind. He was far more tired than he showed and could have almost slept right there and then. If not for the fact that his right-hand would visibly worry when he seemed to be in a coma-like state and that the Express would return to London, he would have.

Actually, that gave him an idea... an evil idea, no less, but payback for all the torture in 'training' he received.

It would be worth the shouting he'd get later.

--

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!"

Tsuna stepped out of the doorway of behind a wary and alert Hayato, whose hands were often twitching towards a _something_ in his sleeves as he eyed the other students from the train. He was hiding his apprehension at his Tenth's idea very well as he scoured the platform for possible ambushes and slid back into position behind him.

Deciding to humour him rather than telling him off for being conspicuous, Tsuna followed the directions he was given, walking off one of the many side paths and finding himself visibly stared at along the entire way. Perhaps _glided_ would have been a more specific term, as the small air pockets his robes caught and floated on top of as he moved gave him the look of someone superior. Even as one of the last to exit the train, the stares were definitely not few and far between, and he suddenly became nervous.

But, he kept up his cool façade with the help of the unexpected lightness and the comfortable but almost-unnaturally stiff backing of his robes until he reached the supposedly horseless carriages that would pull them up to the castle. Or, not quite horseless, as they were pulled by creatures of the likes he had never seen before. Slightly behind him, Hayato made a brief gasp.

Tsuna's own eyes widened in return, his surprise at seeing such magnificent creatures dulled by his Flame. He closed the distance and raised his hands to the winged horses to show he was not a threat, and allowed them to smell his scent.

It was strange how the one pulling the carriage nearest to him accepted him immediately, and seemed to almost bow its head towards him. Pulling off one of his X-Gloves, he ran that hand over the thin membrane that was draped over the skeleton incarnate, white orbs meeting amber flames as they looked at each other in curiosity and... respect?

"Thestrals, Tenth..." Hayato breathed from behind him. "Magical creatures that can only be seen by those who have seen death, considered unlucky by many because of that fact." Hayato reached out in an attempt to pat the dragon-like head, but the thestral simply turned away, a small look of suspicion and distrust flickering briefly in its eyes.

"They're lonely." He didn't know how he'd made that connection, but something seemed to tell Tsuna that this was true, to whisper_ in his ear so nice and welcoming and understanding_. If the thestral heard that remark, it did not show any outward reaction as to prove whether it was true or whether it was false.

A sharp shout through the air brought both their attentions back to the fact that they were late and the last ones remaining, so they hurried upon the carriage the thestral was manning, taking their seats. The both of them simply stared out into the forests of the night, as the wheels turned on.

Tsuna propped his head up with his forearm, eyes seeing the landscape but not truly seeing anything at all. Of all the confidence he had when talking to the Ninth, he still had second thoughts about this mission overall. Long-term missions at scales as large as their current one were nothing but rare in the Vongola and the Mafia altogether, and it was his first.

What if anything went wrong? What if they were discovered to be what they really were; as an assassin, a hitman-Right-Hand, and an heir to the Vongola throne? What if their mission was all compromised just because of a stupid mistake he made? What if --

At the feeling of something warm gripping his arm, he instinctively turned to flip and disable his assailant when a torrent of _thoughts words whispers wishes_ washed passed him.

They spoke of caring. Caring and calm and understanding beyond words and knowledge and _truth_.

"You're not alone, Tenth." And then Hayato was in front of him, smiling _but his mind in painpainpain_. "Your flame's preventing me from perceiving you, but I can tell when you're deep in thought about things like this."

Their carriage slowed, the magnificent structure of Hogwarts now well and truly towering above them, but they took no notice.

"Even though I'm the only one with you right now, just remember that we're all with you. Yamamoto and Lawn-Head and Lambo and the Pineapple gang and -- heck -- even Hibari. We're here for you, Tenth; we'll tackle all the problems we face as they come along."

Tsuna smiled.

"Thank you."

And that was all that had to be said.

--

The Hogwarts Great Hall was decorated as it always was for the Opening Feast, what with the floating candles numerous and providing a stark contrast to the night sky beyond. This year, the Sorting Hat murmured to itself, none of the teachers or house elves had hesitated in pulling the stops to make the year a truly memorable welcoming.

However, there was a thick and noticeable tension in the air. It hung thicker than cobwebs (and he had known a lot of cobwebs in his time) and most likely had _something_ to do with the war.

Or, maybe it was the fact that the Gryffindors and Slytherins had discovered that their tables had moved so that they were next together, rather than opposite ends of the room.

The Sorting Hat himself requested it, now that You-Know-Who (or Tom, as he had known him) was publicly in the open and that now the unity between all four Houses had to stay stronger than ever. Though he didn't look it, he had amassed a great amount of information, knowledge and intellect during his years as the Sorting Hat and unlike the rest he knew the true reason behind Tom's strikes.

It was a distraction.

Because of the resulting chaos, Witches and Wizards alike would be placing more and more pressure on the Minister for Magic's shoulders, leaving Tom free to amass more and more forces beneath their noses. And because he was striking some of the Muggle World's biggest enterprises as well as his usual attacks on the Magical kind, many were stressed and the nosy Muggles were getting far too close to the truth.

Yes, it was a brilliant plan.

But, he could dwell on his thoughts later. After all, he had a song to sing, and students to sort, and everyone was waiting. And with a deep breath, he began;

_So long ago, a thousand years,__  
With Hogwarts, fine and new;  
__A Founder of four came to me,  
And then it was my cue.  
Now sitting here for so so long,  
I have my job down pat;  
You see now that my role here is  
The Hogwarts' Sorting Hat._

_Will you join in Gryffindor,  
Where the brave hearts reside;  
Their courage has no boundaries,  
The Lion as their pride.  
Or maybe into Ravenclaw,  
The wittiest of the lot;  
Smartest students in their grade,  
The Eagle's brains they've got.  
Perhaps you are a Hufflepuff,  
Integrity sure and strong;  
They're the ones of loyalty,  
The Badger they belong.  
But there are those of Slytherin,  
Ambition sidling among;  
Sly and cunning as their means,  
Upon the Serpent's tongue._

_Though I have to separate,  
This year it matters not;  
The marker of the Houses  
Just a silly little dot.  
But now the war is brewing,  
And we're all thrown in the mix;  
Hogwarts but a battleground,  
For Dark side's little tricks.  
All here now, remember well,  
That those who stand are not alone;  
To push pass bias is the key,  
Bring out the inner good each own.  
Outside forces intervene,  
Each one not to our call;  
The peace we had now all destroyed,  
But we must never fall.  
Heed my words for troubles brew,  
The dividing line ever thin;  
Your last chance, and I say --  
Let the Sorting now begin._

There was a brief pause as the words sunk in, but was quickly accompanied by a few weak claps. Dumbledore himself stood up from the head table and gave a thundering applause, much of which was ignored. Many of the older students merely sat, confused to the Hat's song and why it wasn't as dark as it was two years ago, and the newer ones sat confused for reasons of their own.

"When I call your name, please step up to the stool to be Sorted," McGonagall called, her voice echoing as she whipped open a roll of parchment and providing a comfortable distraction.

"Amitany, Rosaryn."

This year, the Sorting Hat's song was a test. It was a test to see whom out of all three-hundred or so students were truly worthy enough to stand upon the message and protect Hogwarts from the new, impending danger that was the very same mentioned in the song itself.

--

"Don't you think it's odd?"

Harry leant slightly closer to Hermione, wondering what she could have possibly been talking about. In the background, the Sorting Hat cried another house out, sorting 'Northington, Allen' into Slytherin.

"The two new students. That flame shouldn't be there, shouldn't exist!" She cried, staring blankly and shaking her head as she seemed to leaf through each and every document of information she knew and had.

"Is that guy really our Defence teacher?" Ron added, completely disregarding her frustration. "He's not at the Head Table."

Dean leant around Harry, looking into the improvised semicircle to add his own as the three of them were sitting beside each other, Hermione in the middle. "You've met the new Defence teacher already? Who is he?"

Taking it upon himself to reply, Ron launched into a detailed description of what exactly happened in their compartment. Harry had to snort at how exaggerated some parts of it were, since the 'teacher' absolutely did _not_ seem to grow horns and petrify anyone with his gaze. He noticed that Dean was absorbed in the narrative and the nearby sixth-years were paying attention as well as the seventh-years around them.

"Wait," Harry interrupted suddenly, as Ron described for the third time the man's expression as he stared at them. "He did have red eyes."

"Exactly! What did I tell you?! Eyes glinting red in the light, filled with a killing intent fierce enough to burn the whole carriage down, let alone the compartment!"

Harry felt like he was going to facefault. However, Hermione interjected before things could get worse, finally out of her stupor.

"Ronald, stop telling exaggerated lies. If none of you are going to pay attention soon you'll miss the special students getting sorted."

And indeed, McGonagall had raised another, much smaller scroll up, the only two left to be Sorted the fierce silver-haired teenager and the brown-haired one with the flame. Unlike the other first years, they seemed very calm, clear wariness in the taller one's eyes.

Concealing a shiver as the other one's eyes met his, he tried to get rid of the piercing sensation he felt in that split second. It was like every single part of him that made him _him_ was getting pieced apart and put for display before him, compared to the unpassable layers the other one had over his own. Hermione was right; those fiery eyes were unnatural and shouldn't have existed.

Harry was immediately cautious. So very cautious. Voldemort was very, very public, and could take any measure to secure him and kill him.

And in these days of war, anyone could be one of _his_ spies.

--

The Sorting Hat was very, very intrigued at the presences in front of him, told that he was to sort them. It wasn't every year he got new but old students, and he always loved the challenge they would pose. Even without extending his senses, he could feel that the one in front exuded a red aura of so much determination, a possible Gryffindor or Slytherin, but the aura was so strong that the other person's was most likely muffled within it.

"This year we will be having two new students join us in the Seventh Year. When I call your name, please step forward in order to be Sorted."

And the determination flared.

"Gokudera, Hayato."

Yes -- this was the one with the intent so strong it was blinding to his extended senses. When the student neared, he sensed it held a killing edge and the will to do whatever was necessary to achieve his goal. There was no need for him to be even put on their head.

After all, there was really only one place to place him.

The moment he touched the person's head, even for a split second, he felt a torrent of thoughts and emotions so strong he almost felt paralysed.

_-- doesn't put me with the Tenth -- use all dynamite stock to blow it up tomorrow -- better put me with the Tenth -- to the Prince as a chew toy for his knives so he stops using me...should be amused with something that can talk and yell pain -- the Tenth -- sort me or else the lawn-head gets a new punching bag --_

"Slytherin!" He called, to try and get away from the graphic images that were also describing his demise. He didn't know what a 'Tenth' was, nor did he brush the correct parts of the person's mind to find out, but the person's ambition was strong enough that there was no other choice.

The table third from the left gave half-hearted claps and the overwhelming aura was finally out of his range. Now it was just time to Sort the last remaining one, and then he could go and ask Dumbledore about retirement plans.

Or think of a new song to pass the time.

The Hat reached to feel the mind of the last student but quickly jumped back as a torrent of mental fire stretched out to burn him, preventing access.

Not even Occulmency could prevent him from reading, so why this orange fire?

"Sawada, Tsunayoshi."

Sawada...that seemed familiar. It was almost too familiar, in an uncomfortable way.

He felt himself get lowered onto this Tsunayoshi's head, and in a burst of flame the familiar walls of the Great Hall disappeared.

What...in the world was going on?

And for once, he had no answer.

* * *

I've been away for quite a bit for perfectly legitimate reasons. I'd like to now direct you to the release notes for this chapter because there are always far too many for me to type, and I don't want too much space taken up here.

Chapter Two Release Notes [remove the spaces]:

http:// cocktail-mafia. livejournal. com/740. html

My release notes include plenty of important information about my newest chapters and in-depth elaborations on points posed in reviews (and the occasional spoiler xD) so be sure to take a look! Or, you can subscribe to my LJ RSS/Atom Feed to receive messages via alerts/email/whatever~

* * *

**Please review, I hope to hear your opinions!**  
(and this time you guys got an abnormally extra-long chapter too, to make up for the wait xD)**  
l****  
l  
V**


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sorry for the wait, and the horrible chapter last time. It's now edited to fix a gaping plot hole that's to come in the rest of the story, but all of it's just minor-minor fixes so it flows better, there's no need to read it again.

Thanks to CH0C0CANDYZ, Viviene, William Bexley, Embers of Inspiration, plummy-kins, Seriyuu, Tsubasa96, , DarkRoseDevon, Shinnie The Meanie, phppsmss, Crimson Cupcake, yumeniai, cynical orange peels, anonymousgirl028, Adel Mortescryche, mafan823, hollyivy7, PockysaysRawr, akuma-river, shadowninja-yuna, RuByMoOn17, 373, Sakuraloveanimes, Akwon, Windraider, ChibiOtaku13 and walkergirl for the reviews~

Please try to read slower and not at _'omfg the story's updated!'_ speeds.

Seriously.

* * *

**Ten Lives to the Fall**

**Chapter Three**

After taking a moment to process his surroundings, the Sorting Hat blinked, realizing he was floating about five feet off the ground. Strangely, he had materialized in some kind of avatar-like form above the pale path beneath him, a bright, blinding sun to the right and a mass of wispy, white clouds to his left.

As he 'walked' along, somehow disturbing the neat lay of the pebbles and the gravel, the Hat soon reached a circular intersection in what felt like the very centre of the mindscape. Stopping for a moment to observe, he took that time to notice there were four more paths leading off the intersection besides his own, dividing it into sixths.

The first he spotted was a mist-filled block so thick it was near impossible to see through it, the mist shifting and never fixed in place. The next could only be described as an erratic downpour, sometimes soft and sometimes heavy, the water mysteriously disappearing about an inch above the grass. Then it was a block filled with lightning that crackled along the ground, each individual bolt shining a strange green as it fell from the sky. The one completing the hexagonal shape was a fierce storm, the dark and heavy clouds occasionally giving off loud claps of thunder in ominous warning.

All of the segments, he noted, had a shield suspended above them, hovering oddly as if they were hung like paintings rather than floating in the air. They were each a different colour of the rainbow excluding the orange, and he couldn't help but think of the irony that the colours were so much like the auras he saw in the students he had to Sort, once he extended his senses for a rough judging of character.

Spotting then that all the shields seemed to point to the centre of the intersection, he turned and saw a bright and pure and _golden_ orange flame burning in a wondrous air, somehow remaining unnoticed. The will-o'-wisp burned with an enchanting glow, forever shifting and never keeping a form long enough to name.

The moment he stepped onto the path for a closer look, a fierce-looking woman materialized to stop him leaving a blazing vortex in her wake. With one swift action she lifted her arm and revealed a crossbow, clearly aiming it towards him in unspoken threat.

"I will not allow you to Tsunayoshi." She intoned, the flowery tattoo on her cheek shifting as she spoke. The orange flames that once flickered around the shaft solidified themselves into a bolt and automatically clicked itself into place, the excess tendrils simply flickering across the wood in agitation.

In an automatic reaction, he began to back away quickly, careful not to step off the path and tread on the grass. He started; the grass turned into a sickly, oily black the closer it was to the centre and to the pure ball of orange light. Glancing briefly in the woman's direction to see if she could allow him past, she simply continued to hold her pose as if she were a trained soldier. Trying another direction, a dusty blonde in a white military-style cloak raised his own glowing weapon in response.

"We will stand by him until we no longer exist." The two echoed in unison, as a chant.

Judging by their reactions, the Hat quickly deducted that the flame was the boy's true mind and the cache to his memories, but with each direction he attempted another figure would appear, the two lines continuously repeated as a mantra each time. In the end, he had been left with nine people surrounding each and every direction, preventing his access.

Frowning, the Sorting Hat had to wonder how it was he was supposed to Sort him.

"Hat of Godric Gryffindor." One of them said, and he turned around to see the strongest aura standing before him in the form of a person with dark blond hair and wearing a mantle that floated despite the lack of physical wind. It was hard to hide a shiver when the other's fiery eyes dove into him and sought out the truth, far more effective than any Veritaserum would ever be.

The Hat's avatar self blinked, as he couldn't recall the last time he had been addressed in that way before. "Uh...yes?"

"You wish to Sort Tsunayoshi into a house, do you not?"

This time, his answer was more confident. "I do."

"We will not allow you into his mind."

This was very much a cause for concern. It was impossible for a houseless student to be in Hogwarts, and he needed to Sort him or else... well, it had never happened, so he didn't know what would occur. However, Sorting was impossible without any clue to the personality of the person in question.

"Tsunayoshi is powerful." The man with glowing fists and a fierce black hairstyle droned suddenly and unexpectedly, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Tsunayoshi is strong." The almost-bald man with a glowing knife echoed.

"Tsunayoshi is brave." This time it was the bearded brown-haired man wielding a glowing fork.

"Tsunayoshi is loyal." The one in the white military cloak with the strange marking on his forehead.

"Tsunayoshi is always afraid." The grey-haired man with a monocle and a glowing boomerang.

"Tsunayoshi's determination knows little bounds." The one in the top hat and the glowing guns.

"Tsunayoshi is determined to do anything he can to protect those who deserve protection." The woman whispered.

"He has even killed and knowing he must kill, just to protect his friends." The grey-haired man with the glowing sceptre finished.

"Tsunayoshi is all these things, and he must be if he is in order to succeed us." The one with the glowing gloves said, speaking once more. "You must now make your choice, Hat of Godric Gryffindor, for you may not stay here any longer."

And in a flash of fire and energy and _power_, the Sorting Hat found itself returned to itself in the living world. The sudden blast was definitely not something a hat of his age could handle, and he found himself coughing and choking from his position above Tsunayoshi's head, trying his best to regain his bearings and ignoring the stares he received from the rest of the school.

Tsunayoshi was very hard to sort, he contemplated. Never before had the Hat seen something that was so equally divided yet with both sides alternately tipping the scales of both Gryffindor and Slytherin, a debate that would never end.

He was brave, he was loyal. He had a goal, and acted upon it. So the balance was equal, and could not tip.

His ambition was to protect his friends. Gryffindor.

His bravery was due to his ambition. Slytherin.

So what house would he be sorted into?

But then he realized. If he'd asked, the choice would be Slytherin.

The previous one he sorted said something about a 'Tenth'. There were nine people supposedly protecting Tsunayoshi's mind, and Tsunayoshi was their successor.

And from the words of the guardians, Tsunayoshi did anything for his friends. It was also likely that they would also do anything for him in return.

It was ironic, really. He was the Sorting Hat that sung for their unity, yet he was having trouble sorting someone who could easily fit into a category for both Gryffindor and Slytherin.

After all, wasn't he the one who said that pushing past bias was the key?

There was a reason why Hogwarts only accepted students when they were eleven, not because of the fact that that age was one of the most ideal when it came to learning control of a person's magic, but rather due to the Sorting. Eleven was a young enough age that they were still naïve, but their personality was starting to build.

The age also meant that to them all the houses were the same anyway and that there were multiple that could suit one student, so the House numbers could be more even. The colours of the six shields and the orange flame corresponded exactly with the colours he always saw when trying to gain a rough idea of their personalities, and it was always the extremely rare orange aura that was the hardest and most unpredictable.

He was different from Harry Potter. Harry Potter needed to make a choice between the sides he would take for the future, and he had needed aid in making that choice. Harry didn't know the outside world, but Tsunayoshi did.

So in the end, there was no real alternative...

"_Slytherin!"_

...And if the threat that had to do with being burnt to ashes and those very same ashes being fed to the giant squid had any effect, no one noticed.

--

Sitting in his seat, Harry stared at the spot where the Sorting Hat's stool used to sit before being taken away, and where Sawada had been Sorted. It had taken a full five minutes until the Hat came to a conclusion, and it was something that never, if not rarely, occurred in Hogwarts.

He noticed, though, that upon Sawada's departure from his seat the other one -- Gokudera -- had jumped up and began fussing over him, somehow pulling out combs and things from midair until Sawada stopped him from his overreaction.

And then the doors to the Great Hall slammed open.

"-- fucking brats _fucking leaving_ me on the shitty train --"

All the students and teachers instantly turned to stare at the extremely pissed off Defence Professor in the doorway. Covered in mud and small twigs and completely soaked no doubt because of the heavy downpour and occasional bolt of lightning the ceiling of the Hall displayed, he was obviously anything but pleased. His boots and the bottom edge of his coat seemed to have taken the brunt of the abuse, the coat itself somehow still affixed on his shoulders rather than put on properly, and the irritation was clearly visible.

Harry could have bet the little that he did own that he was searching for Sawada.

Sawada, for his part, had chosen to walk the long way to the seat that Gokudera had glared for him past the centre aisle and going around rather than making his way between the Slytherin table and the Hufflepuff one beside it. At that moment, he was about to turn his second corner and was to the right of the doors.

Approximately twenty steps away from the Professor.

He was spotted immediately, most of the student body not bothering to hide their relief as the overwhelming stare was lifted from them. Now it and the murderous aura was focused on one target; Sawada.

"You, brat!" He called, voice harsh and unforgiving, before pointing one of the two guns he held towards him, amidst the whispers on why he would have a _muggle_ invention of all things, when Hogwarts was clearly a school for magic.

Sawada didn't flinch, merely staring the barrel headlong. When he spoke his natural tone was very beautiful and melodic, ringing in the hall as clearly as the teacher's shouting.

"You deserved it."

The blood-red eyes narrowed, but Sawada didn't stop, raising his eyebrows.

"Weren't you the one who disturbed the other students on the train with your language? It's just _payback_, after all."

Harry could practically see the teacher's temper snap, but he wondered if there was something underlying the question when the outstretched gun began to glow.

"_Fiamma di --"_

There was a clear ringing sound in interruption, the clap attracting the attention of all the students.

"I _believe_ there are some introductions I must get out of the way before we begin to eat," Dumbledore began in a tone that was seldom heard, soft but commanding power and respect and not seeming to notice that he had stopped a fight. This successfully stopped all the remaining chatter and even the gun-wielding maniac seemed to jerk angrily before he finally seemed to gather some form of composure. As Harry turned around, he noticed that Sawada was tucking something back into his left sleeve; a wand, maybe?

"Now that I have everyone's attention, I would like to introduce you to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Xanxus." More chatter broke out at the statement, but Dumbledore waved a hand and silenced them immediately. "And now that there's such an interesting topic for you to discuss over your meal, please be seated and _let the feast begin!_"

Professor Xanxus gave what seemed to be a 'che' sound and stalked up to the teachers' table as the food appeared, boots leaving a trail of muddy sludge and dead grass in his wake. Sawada met up with an extremely distressed Gokudera, and they found the seat the taller one reserved for them at the very end of the table.

As the silver-haired one bowed deeply, obviously flustered and the blinding smile in reply, Harry had already turned to his plate. Ron was waffling down his food as fast as he could get it to his mouth, and Hermione ate at a more sedate pace, a crease of deep thought adorning her features. The only thing that remained for him was to figure out whether Sawada had any motives at Hogwarts, and whether he had any relation to the school that would spark those motives.

But that could wait. First thing was first; he needed to satisfy his grumbling stomach.

Huh...maybe being Ron's best friend was affecting him more than he realized.

--

After following the rest of the Slytherins down various floors and corridors into the dark and dank dungeons, passing a rather imposing door that shielded their Common Room from outside eyes, Hayato threw himself onto one of the chairs and awkwardly lay across the wood to the best of his ability. Tsuna chose to sit beside him on the floor instead, eying the low ceiling and the greenish tone of the lamps, as his Right-Hand was eying the decorative skulls around the room in what seemed to be a strange, morbid curiosity.

In reality, Tsuna knew that he was absorbing everything and plotting possible escape routes in the case they proved to be necessary.

He was trained too well, after all.

Interrupted from his musings as the door slammed open again, he watched as the startled first-years jumped and Hayato somehow rolled over the arm of his chair and immediately to his feet, watching closely for any threat that may have appeared.

Upon seeing the greasy-haired man with the slightly hooked nose enter the Common Room, Tsuna recognized him as one of the people who were previously up at the Head Table during the feast. He supposed this was the cue that the Prefects had mentioned when they said for the _newcomers_ to stay and wait, before heading to their own dormitories.

"Up," the man ordered in a tone that was sharp and clipping, bringing those who remained seated up once more. He swept past them in a billowing flurry of robes and black fabric, inspecting all of them with a sharp gaze that was both criticizing and intimidating at the same time.

Tsuna stayed unaffected, though Hayato glared back and the hilt of a switchblade could be seen through the gap of his sleeve.

After what felt like ten minutes but was probably only one, his inspection seemed to come to a close before he stood before them and addressed them as a group.

"I am Professor Snape, the Potions Master of the school. I am the Head of Slytherin House, and will not tolerate any disrespect or any disservice to our House name." He fixed a stare upon each of them, a sharp power underlying his words. "Remember this: you have been one of the Chosen to enter, and you are one of the Chosen for your entire lives. Follow the legacy of Salazar Slytherin well."

Turning his eyes slowly to the two Mafioso, he seemed to frown. "Hair colour-change spells are not allowed, nor having zippers on uniforms or even a robe _that is not fully closed_."

"I assure you, our robes fit perfectly in the school's dress code and I think you should know that the actual _bleaching_ of hair isn't addressed either," Tsuna answered simply, their uniforms designed to attract attention without being disallowed.

With a less-than-approving look, Snape swept out of the room leaving ten first-years sighing in open relief. Travelling in a slow shuffle to their dormitories, only the two seventeen-year-olds were left in the Common Room. Hayato groaned, falling against a chair once more and wincing slightly as his landing was sloppy enough to have the arm dig into his side. Tsuna could only share his sentiment, deciding to bring across a nearby chair and sit next to his exhausted friend.

"This place is different, isn't it?" Tsuna commented, wanting to break the strange silence that fell over them.

"I agree, Tenth," was the breathless reply. "I didn't think this would be so hard, or so different." He shook his head, righting his hair back to the way it originally sat. "And the food here is so strange..."

Tsuna understood what he was trying to say immediately. "It's different from Italy, isn't it? And to think, after this year I'll have to complete the... _contract_... and return to my family... the Vongola Famiglia..."

He broke off abruptly without warning, before standing up to stand near the fireplace. But words were not necessary, as Hayato pulled a cell phone out in what seemed like an automatic response, ingrained sleight-of-hand hiding the fact that it was from his sleeves in flawless precision.

Turning the mobile device on, he frowned.

"What's wrong?" Tsuna asked, feeling the change of Hayato's emotions in the air.

"It doesn't work," he muttered, proceeding to pull out various cables and devices from nowhere in particular, Tsuna watching as the Mafia-issued phone was disassembled with a set of tools and was about to be hooked up together. How Hayato pulled out a pair of pliers, electrical tape and a bundle of assorted wires from inside his robes he didn't particularly want to know, but was slightly more concerned about the fact that he was carrying all the stuff on him in the first place.

"Maybe it can't get any reception because we're underground?" Tsuna suggested, trying to help despite his lack of knowledge concerning the other's work.

A shake of the head was his reply, Hayato's frown deepening as he tried to turn the device on again. "No, it's more as if it itself is broken, or even short-circuited, because everything --"

"How stupid." A voice said from the set of stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. "I guess you're just muggle filth after all. Even a squib knows that technology doesn't work at Hogwarts."

As the figure walked out into the light, Hayato tensed, placing the stuff in his hands down with a careful air. The blond Head Boy with slicked back hair simply stared at the two of them, his nose high with a disdainful sneer on his face. But, he didn't seem to have finished his speech.

"I don't understand how _you_ were Sorted into our noble House --"

Tsuna interrupted him in a low, soft voice, staring directly into the other's eyes in an attempt to find their motives. "I am Tsunayoshi Sawada, and this is my brother by adoption, Hayato Gokudera. May I enquire as to who you are, to be in a position to demand such things of us?"

The scowl the other had deepened, obviously not pleased with the interruption. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I don't know how types like yours are in our House, scum."

And quick as lightning, Tsuna shot his own reply back. "What position do you hold that allows you to make such claims?"

Malfoy looked hesitant for a moment before finding an answer of his own. "I'll have you know, my _father_ holds a _very_ influential post at the Ministry, though you wouldn't _obviously_ know a thing about the magical world, would you?"

"So you simply rely on your father's name and standing to gain whatever it is that you are in need of, is that right?"

--

Hayato watched the bright red hue on the other's face, feeling a burst of pride for his Tenth. He didn't know what had happened in his training that enabled him to play such skilful word games, but the only thing he'd heard was that his Tenth was given the challenge to outwit the Ninth as often as possible.

Not that he'd ever succeeded, of course. The old man was hiding something under his mask of kindness after all.

But he immediately felt caution as the Malfoy began to glare. With a wave of his hand, two figures had stepped out from behind him, acting like demented bodyguards. The two of them were built very thickly and would have been quite imposing, if not for the fact that Hayato could see through them at once.

"Get him, Crabbe, Goyle."

Immediately jumping up, he went to shield the Tenth from the threats that were not threats. His judgement was confirmed as he could tell instantly that the grunts' balance was all off, and when the first one made to strike a punch it was clear that he overextended himself, his only support found in his bulky stature.

The Tenth's lack of response was quickly taken as permission to do whatever he wished, so long as it did not involve any compromise. During battle, words took too long to pass.

Striking the forearm with the hilt of his switchblade; knife point flicked open; the arm fell as he found the sensitive bundle of veins hidden beneath the wrist. With a sweep of his other hand in order to pull out another and silently cursing himself for not having a smoke in his mouth so he could use dynamite instead, he ducked the punch from the other underling with ease and precision. A quick series of steps and he was in the second person's zone, briefly leaning to the right to increase his maximum energy and striking one of the more susceptible areas to the side of the neck, the clumsy attempt to dodge bringing him overbalanced.

Using that to his advantage, Hayato used his right arm to knock the second grunt to the floor in a position that was angled enough that it could dislocate bones but unfortunately gave the opponent ample chance to avoid the ground, but before he could check the landing he was distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye. The first one had recovered from the hit to his arm and decided to punch the Tenth whilst his Right-Hand's back was turned, and that was unforgivable.

Sliding his right foot back, still caught in the momentum from his previous swing, Hayato unhitched the clasp which held the blades hidden underneath his boot. Ending his previous momentum with a slight crouch, he ran a few steps forward, shifting his centre of gravity and swinging a kick to cover the remaining distance with his body; the three now-visible, very long blades sticking out from the tip pointing towards the grunt's shoulders.

He was amazed and filled with a pride that his Tenth trusted him so much, as he hadn't moved an inch since the punch began. The surprise he gave the grunt meant the hit barely brushed the brown locks behind his Tenth as the minion stumbled back in a very bad effort to dodge the live blades. With a similar hit to the very first one he dealt, Hayato quickly twirled his switchblade around and hit him in the solar plexus, the first one stumbling backwards and tripping over the edge of one of the deep emerald rugs.

With a glare and a quick check that both Crabbe and Goyle were down and most likely slow to rise again, Hayato turned to the remaining Malfoy with both of his blades held before him and not bothering to re-sheath the ones on his foot. Fighting knives-only against a Belphegor during training who said that 'you could do anything in the battle' taught you to use dirty tricks very quickly, especially when you were already at about fifteen disadvantages against an elite member of the Varia Assassination Squad.

"Hayato, stand down." The Tenth said abruptly, and he automatically felt himself doing so without thinking. But he didn't fight himself as he rolled the toe of his shoe and slid his foot once more to re-clasp the three blades and deactivate the switchblades in his hands before placing them in their respective sheaths on the inside of his uniform. But, he allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction at Malfoy's look of shock, horror, anger and fear.

"You came here to scare me into becoming one of your supporters, didn't you?" The Tenth continued, the Flame on his head seeming to burn even brighter, until his eyes hardened. "Dirty, underhanded tricks won't work with me, Draco. My respect is earned, and you had removed what there was left of it from your unhesitant attack on my Family."

Hayato barely noticed the slight emphasis on the way 'family' had been said, but it was there. Malfoy didn't notice, merely shaking and irritated at the Tenth's usage of his first name so easily as if they were in casual conversation.

"You -- Crabbe and Goyle were just out of my control," he exclaimed pathetically by way of explanation, the words coming out more like a splutter.

The comeback was easily ten times as smooth. "Then you should learn to control those who are under you far more carefully."

"Wait, wait until I tell my _father_ about this!" He spat in response, oddly reminding Hayato of a child in a temper tantrum.

"You can do whatever you wish," the Tenth said lowly. "Just know that I will never side with a person who relies on other people to do his work, and who will never gain my respect."

Malfoy simply left with a glare, and Hayato knew his opinion of his Tenth had risen once more.

* * *

Chapter Three Release Notes [remove the spaces]:  
http:// cocktail-mafia. livejournal. com/1118. html

Another abnormally long chapter. Hurr, maybe my writing's just getting better this way? I hope so. If any of this chapter's been hard to follow (or even needing to read again), do tell. I'll need to fix those straight away.

* * *

**Review?  
**(or, what did you think of Tsuna vs Draco? Tsuna sorted into Slytherin?  
Opinions, thoughts, reactions, whatever, please~)**  
l  
l  
V**


	4. There is no title

I really, really didn't want to post this since one of my biggest pet peeves are Author's Notes chapters (mainly, how they break the Guidelines), but it's reached the point where I don't have any more choice.

**Guys. I'll say it straight: This story will most likely not be continued.**

It might. That's it. I might continue it. But see here, the main issue I have with this story now is motivation.

I am completely unmotivated to do anything regarding this story at this current time. For various reasons, but you probably don't care about any of that. I'm even tempted to disable anonymous reviews because some of them are doing nothing but making me lose interest in this story, you know? :/

**But.**

But, I'm horribly sorry to those people who are wonderful readers and such, etc etc. I'm sorry that I can't continue this story, and I'm sorry that I was such a noob to actually post this story and end up losing interest. I've actually long quit FFN, due to school work and stuff, but it's mainly because of you guys that I haven't decided to just delete this story without warning. And I won't delete it, since you guys enjoy my writing so much when I don't like it at all.

But, the anon 'sumire' has left a review that did spark my attention. That is, whether or not this story would be put up for adoption.

The answer? **No.** Why? Because it sucks, and I don't want something this sucky to appear on your profile since it's so horrible.

Instead, I'll give free reign to you guys - borrow my idea, borrow my start, borrow my concepts if you'd like, and start a story on your own. The only cost is that you add in like one note about it belonging to me (a sentence, even) and give me a link to the story. That's all.

To everyone, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I suck so horribly, I'm sorry I used to fail so badly, and I'm sorry that this rant is much longer than it really should be.

And in the spirit of KHR..._Arrivederci_.  
Sazerac


	5. Chapter 4

Honestly? I don't know what I'm doing, updating this. I wish I wasn't. But you guys don't seem to care about my huge gaping plot hole or the fact that my writing seriously sucks, so I'll try and slug through the stuff I've got prewritten and make it readable. At least.

Along with the plot hole, OOCness follows, but...seriously, I don't know why you're reading this anyway. Run on sentences, ahoy. (though admittedly, I've tried to fix some of the worser cases.)

Regardless, if you're still here, please disregard the horrible quality of these chapters! /bows

* * *

**Ten Lives to the Fall**

**Chapter Four**

On Monday, Harry didn't know what to expect as he entered the Great Hall, late because of the incident that happened in the Seventh Year boys' dorm involving misplaced socks, a mysterious amount of missing hygiene products (mainly related to hair care) and a large amount of _extremely_ fluffy puffskeins. Walking in, he couldn't help but stare at the Slytherin table and almost dropped his cauldron onto his foot in the process, something that he would have rather avoided.

It wasn't so much that it was because he was unused to it being between his own Gryffindor table and the Hufflepuff one, but the fact that it seemed to be split into two.

Two, but not two equal halves. The side with the majority of the Slytherin House held a loud and brash Malfoy, busy bragging about something or other that happened to his father and the Ministry.

The other side clearly belonged to Tsunayoshi Sawada.

In the timespan of one night, he and his other 'special case' student had gotten what seemed like all ten first-years on their side, and he didn't seem to notice nor care one bit. Harry was not the only one staring; most of the people who entered the hall enjoyed wasting about five minutes of their morning looking at the sudden change before realizing that they were running extremely late.

Luckily for him, Professor Xanxus' arrival (emphasized by the extremely loud slamming of the door behind the Head Table and the very irritated scowl on his face) was what brought him back to his senses. Harry made for an empty seat beside Hermione and took his timetable from his Head of House, the smell of the pancakes quickly prompting him to eat.

As he ate, a quick inspection of his timetable showed his first period to be double potions. His groan caused Ron sharing his sentiment with a twin moan muffled by the toast in his mouth as he leaned over his shoulder.

"Great going, mate; double potions first thing for the new school year." His best friend said somewhat sympathetically, clapping him on the back.

Hermione, who also took the subject, gave a small frown towards them. The trio had been forewarned about it last night anyway, since Parvarti and Lavender had overheard some Slytherins gossiping. Even though Harry knew about it, it didn't mean he liked it, but at least he'd brought his Potions equipment with him. He didn't need to run to his dormitory, retrieve his equipment and be late to class.

The less time he faced Snape over the first day of term was well worth the promise to place an order for _Witch Weekly_'s new glamour potion for the two; he had more than enough money. Harry peered down the table to see if the two girls received the owl yet, but found them talking avidly to a blonde Slytherin for some reason.

"But brighten up," Hermione said, trying to cheer them up. "We've all got Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Yeah," Ron groaned in reply. "With the new _professor_."

It turned out that he wasn't the only one sceptical about the man's credentials. It wasn't surprising, considering that Quirrel was a joke in their first year, Lockhart was a fraud in their second, Lupin was the best teacher they ever had but a werewolf in their third, Moody was a fake and a Death Eater in their fourth and Umbridge was a simpering excuse for a human in their fifth. Last year, Dumbledore had simply put out an announcement that he was discontinuing the subject until a teacher applied.

They could only wonder about the new Professor Xanxus.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "I'm going to spend lunch in the library today."

Harry thought he had a good idea about what she was looking for. "To look up more about Sawada's flame?"

She nodded, and frowned as she took a sip of her own pumpkin juice. "I've taken a brief look through all the books I've brought for myself, and I couldn't find anything."

Turning around to take another look at Sawada to try and figure out if he could somehow discern what the flame was by sight, he noticed that the two Slytherins had finished their own eating and were in deep conversation. Their low tones made it hard to hear what they were saying, but Harry noticed Sawada cutting off Gokudera's words at the end as the two of them left the hall.

"What was that?" Ron asked rhetorically, but left to gather his equipment before class started. Harry turned to Hermione and was about to nudge her to class so they wouldn't be late, but he caught her frown.

"Italian." She said abruptly, seemingly in thought. "They were speaking Italian."

Struck by a thought, Harry blurted out, "You can understand them?"

Hermione looked towards him. "Italian is my second language."

Harry stared at her. "You don't look Italian." Not that he knew _exactly_ how Italians looked, but still...

"I know. I look like I'm French, don't I?" A strange expression fell on her face as she briefly glanced away. "My mother's French but her parents immigrated to Italy because they didn't like the native country, and she moved to England after she fell in love with my father who was attending a conference, and here I am."

"So what did they say?"

She frowned. "This is what I'm having trouble with. Gokudera first said for Sawada not to second-guess himself and that he could tell the difference between the two of them. Sawada's reply was that if he was needed he would always be there for him no matter what, and that he would never be able to fulfil something before it cut off." Picking up both her bag and cauldron, preparing to head to Potions with him, she continued as Harry mirrored her action. "But the weird thing was, well; Gokudera called Sawada something I find really odd."

"What?"

She looked at him. "_Vongola_ the Tenth."

* * *

It was only barely that Harry Potter made it to his class on time despite having his cauldron with him, he and Hermione sitting down in an empty row of seats just moments before Professor Snape entered the classroom. When the roll was called and he heard Gokudera's name, he noticed that the two transfers were in his class. Not finding it strange in the slightest, he and Hermione set to work creating a Bane of Dark Wood and its respective anti-poison.

He and Hermione automatically paired themselves up; him fetching the ingredients and Hermione preparing them for use. As she pulled out her knife, mortar and pestle, brass scales and her potion-making kit, Harry scanned the board for the first list of ingredients.

Whilst walking to the shelf in the corner of the room, he inadvertently passed Sawada and Gokudera along the way. Harry noticed Gokudera stand up with his tray and go for his own set of ingredients and Sawada's strange expression. Somehow, the silver-haired kid looped around him and got to the shelf first.

Almost too enthusiastically, Gokudera took down each of the containers and emptied approximately just the right amount of each. Somehow, he managed to gather everything necessary for the Bane in one trip, stacking his bowls with expert precision. Harry himself needed three trips to complete the task, and then even more after that to return their excess.

When he finally took out his own knife and board, their cauldron was already bubbling with ginger juice and an asphodel base. Harry flashed a smile and pulled his gloves on, proceeding to the aconite leaf. It was fortunate that Snape was currently out of the room at the moment so that he couldn't make some sort of snappy remark.

As he finished, Hermione had left in unspoken agreement to get the second set of ingredients for the antidote. He stirred the cauldron as it came to a boil and added his aconite and some roughly-broken rosethorn twigs before proceeding to stir it thrice in the opposite direction. It was then, when the potion turned a soft gold and Hermione had returned that Snape spoke in criticism.

"And what is going on here?"

Harry looked up, half-expecting the Potions Master to have appeared before him whist he was in deep concentration, but found empty space in the row before him. Turning around, he spotted Snape in front of the table where Sawada and Gokudera were sitting at, staring at them with an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing." Sawada replied, looking at him in the eyes. By now, most of the class had temporarily paused in their work to look at the commotion.

Snape didn't look impressed. "_I_ don't see 'nothing'. I see you having forced your brother to do all the work for you rather than you having done it yourself." And sure enough, Harry could see that Sawada's side of the bench remained clean even though their group was further ahead in their potion than his own, the colour of both liquids remaining close to the book. "A week of detention with me, Sawada, and know that I will not tolerate any slacking off in my class."

To say that Harry was surprised by the confrontation would have been an understatement. He knew that Snape was the Head of Slytherin House and that his bias meant he always overlooked any of their flaws, and that Sawada was in Slytherin. Yet, he had approached Sawada about him having forced his brother into doing work in his place, and given him a punishment that Harry would have normally received. But in the corner of his eye, he also noticed the smirk on Malfoy's face and his gut shifted in a strange anticipation.

"_Forced?_" Gokudera exclaimed, a look of anger on his face as he rose from his seat. "I was not _forced_; the Tenth would never -"

Harry was sure he was the only one who noticed the instantaneous glare that passed between the two brothers that looked nothing alike.

"Hayato." Sawada said in a warning tone, causing Gokudera to become quiet, literally using his hands to clamp his mouth shut. Turning to Snape, he continued. "I don't know how you thought that a way of showing thanks was a forced order from me, but it's pretty obvious that he forced _himself_ into the position."

Snape looked positively livid, eyes narrowing into thin slits.

"When you speak you will address me as 'sir', do you understand? You are only at this school because the Headmaster was gracious enough to allow your _guardian_, who, I may add, was a former student who _ended_ her education in her second year, an _exception_ to the two of you. And this was all because she was _worried_ that even though she trained you two at _home_ previously, your magical energies might still go _out of control_ and wanted you to take the N. E. W. T. tests to guarantee yourselves _magically competent!_"

"_I_, _sir_, will not tolerate any _magical_ attacks on my family," Sawada's retort echoed in the dungeons as a glare grew on his face. "I don't think you understand why I was hiding. I _hate_ the Wizarding World, don't confuse me with someone else."

His tirade was interrupted as the flame on his forehead burst forth and flew, now unrestrained by what ties that once bound it into place. Snape stumbled back, clutching his head as he cried, obviously in extreme pain. Sawada continued to _look_ at him, and it was obvious that the whole room was confused as to why one instant the professor seemed fine and the next in incomprehensible fits.

As if possessed, Snape began to speak in a tone of voice different from his norm.

"_I...will not try...to access Tsunayoshi Sawada's mind...ever...again—"_

They had the rest of the morning off.

* * *

So far, the day proved to be incredibly _tiring_.

Hayato flitted happily beside him, having forgotten in his enthusiasm that he was finally reunited with his Tenth to remember their original reason for coming to Hogwarts in the first place. So far, Tsuna hadn't been able to secure his target's trust before he could draw more information out about their hit, but that needed to change.

The events of last night had been stupid. He hadn't meant to lose control in his words, but apologizing couldn't have been an option as the blonde Slytherin had been bragging and flaunting his power in an attempt to redeem himself before his peers. Apologising would just lower the others' opinion of both he and his Right-Hand.

His Dying Will Flame was the cause – every time during training he had been induced into that state in order to learn far more efficiently and he also used it during study and practical application. Because of the incident in Potions, Tsuna had spent the entire break in the bathroom to try and suppress his Flame whilst Hayato waited awkwardly outside.

Despite the half-hour, his only success was dulling its appearance and thinning the mental barrier that separated him from himself; his mind from the machine that was his body. He would have to mail the Ninth to see if he knew anything about the situation as Xanxus' Sky Flame was far too corrupted to be of any help. Even so, he couldn't make any more mistakes, or _he_ would be the one who held their mission in compromise.

But, Tsuna felt slightly more cheered as he recalled that their next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, the one in which Xanxus would be teaching in.

In a weird way, it filled him with suspense. It was almost impossible to predict what the leader of the Varia would do.

The door to the classroom was closed, a thin cluster of students scattered around and waiting for it to start. Harry Potter looked at him, and he almost winced at the lack of trust and the suspicion in those eyes. He looked as if he had just previously been in a discussion with his two friends, and Tsuna _knew_ that they had to have been talking about him.

"You're in this class too?" The redhead asked, his own distrust visible in every fibre of his being. He must have heard the story from the Potter boy himself.

"Yes, of course." Holding out his hand with a smile on his face, he took in their caution. "I don't believe I've introduced myself properly; I'm Tsunayoshi Sawada, and this is my brother, Hayato Gokudera."

There was an awkward pause as Hayato's piercing eyes scanned over them for a few moments before he looked away, and the three Gryffindors introduced themselves hesitantly in response.

A pause befell the group, one party obviously uncomfortable talking with Slytherins and the other simply waiting with a patient air.

"So, Tsunayoshi," Hermione began, taking the initiative. "You were speaking Italian before during breakfast, weren't you? You don't really seem Italian, so where'd you learn the language?"

Alarm bells started ringing in Tsuna's head but he covered it with a small smile. "Please, call me Tsuna; I don't like being formal," he began easily, but his mind was whirring and he settled with a half-truth. "I'm Japanese, but I moved to Italy about two years ago due to some family issues and learnt the language there."

This, however, seemed to only make Hermione more interested. "Your Italian is quite good for someone who's stayed for two years – I can barely hear your accent, and you must've learnt English there as well. What region of Italy did you move to as well? Your Italian feels very standardized, and your English has a slight Italian accent rather than a Japanese one."

Tsuna hesitated for a brief moment, his heartbeat echoing in his mind as no amount of training could have prepared him for this sort of situation. It had been a mistake talking in Italian earlier and even though they were trying to make it harder for eavesdroppers to understand they should have chosen Japanese instead. England was relatively close to Italy, so it stood within reason that there would have been at least one person who understood, after all.

"I – uh, took some strict pronunciation courses because Asian languages and Western languages...how do I say this..." Pausing, he tried to remember the word in English, but the pounding of his heart made it hard to concentrate, even as he struggled for the word in Japanese. He just wished he could think straighter. "Different ways of speaking?" Shaking his head at the strange choice of words, he finally remembered as a wave of calm and peace washed over him, the effect of his Flame. "Phonetics. Different phonetics."

Ron frowned. "You don't look like brothers."

Tsuna smiled. The excuse he had given held several subtle hints underlying it, sufficiently deflecting the conversation in another direction in their subconscious without raising suspicion. "I'm the one adopted into the family," he replied without hesitation, knowing exactly what he was talking about, his Flame giving his mind a clarity he rarely had in the outside world.

By now, most of the class had arrived at the closed door, wondering what was going on.

Draco had taken that moment to come up to them, and if the Golden Trio noticed anything wrong about him having Crabbe and Goyle slightly too close to him or the two grunts' wariness, Tsuna didn't see it.

"So tell me, Sawada; was what Professor Snape said true? That your _guardian_ was expelled in her second year?" He laughed mockingly. "I bet she was such a slut."

"There was never anything said about expelling. She merely left on her own free will." The light in Tsuna's eyes shifted dangerously as he tilted his head to examine the Malfoy eye-to-eye. "It won't work, Draco. I told you last night that I wouldn't side with you until you have gained my respect, and by playing these tricks you are doing the complete opposite. Besides," he turned to Hayato, "If my memory's correct, wasn't the last person to call the Poison Scorpion a 'slut' admitted to the mental ward in three seconds flat?"

Draco and the Golden Trio jumped when Hayato nodded in confirmation. Tsuna hid a frown at the wizards' reactions. He had been pretty confident that her name would not have been familiar to anyone who may have been in the corridor. Slightly narrowing his eyes, he resolved to Owl a message to Bianchi in order to find out why they may have reacted in such an odd way.

At that, the door to the classroom slammed open. Fortunately for the faces of those standing directly before it, it was a door designed to be swung inwards. Unfortunately, their faces and the faces of the rest of the class were greeted with a very irate Xanxus behind it.

Tsuna's face almost broke out into an automatic smirk, now that the killing aura was no longer entirely directed at him in a one-on-one battle.

"Well? What the—" ... "—are you—" ... "—waiting for?" Xanxus roared, and the class wasn't so stupid as to miss the blatant absence of two words as his mouth moved, but no sound came out.

As the glare intensified, the students scurried in as fast as they could, Tsuna once more reminded of why exactly Xanxus was revered and respected (mainly out of fear) in the Varia. And then he froze as he looked at the completely empty space that was their classroom, knowing that there should have been _something_ there.

But empty it was. The space where a board would usually sit along with the teacher's desk was clear, and there were no tables and no chairs. However, all the notable features of the room were along or even _on _the walls, they themselves painted in various shades of forest camouflage and the windows covered with a sheer, black fabric. The front end of the rectangular classroom had a door that led to what was most likely Xanxus' office, the back end housing _real_ forestry that had black and dark green targets hidden skilfully behind it.

"Just put your bags down you—" ... "—and get to the front here so I can give you my—" ... "—introductory speech for the school year."

Tsuna raised a hand after giving his bag to a very insistent Hayato. Even though their robes were black against the dark backdrop he knew that Xanxus could see him, only pretending that he couldn't. Finally, Xanxus got irritated and called upon him.

"What is it this time?" The words _shitty brat_ could only be seen on his lips.

"Why are some of your words not coming through, sir?" Tsuna asked, acting as innocent as he could. It was payback for the stuff he went under during training, and if he learnt anything it was that the Varia liked to fight dirty (call them different techniques or something, but they still did anything to win).

"Dumbledore called it a selective silencing charm. That—" ... "—Flitwick placed it on me, and apparently it censors any 'violent or crude' words."

And Tsuna did smirk, unseen by all except Xanxus.

In response, the Varia Boss just simply swished his wand in a straight line. A loud crack and the sound of something exploding rang out around them. Hayato and all the students jumped for different reasons, but everyone quickly understood the meaning and gathered before Xanxus at once.

"Now." The voice was low and deadly, quickly shutting everyone up. "Let me get one thing straight; _you will not learn anything in my class_. All your _proper_ learning will be done for homework. I volunteered for the job because I wanted to see the skills the next generation of magisters in the Wizarding World held, and so far the Hufflepuff and Slytherin third-years, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first-years and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth-years haven't impressed me one little bit. Che, for all the Ravenclaws are hyped up to be the smartest and better than the rest they're probably the ones who failed the most.

"But anyway," he continued, glaring at Hermione who had opened her mouth to ask something, "what you _will_ be doing in this class is seeing how you'd fare in a real-life combat situation. The classroom is _purely_ practical, and you will be learning theory _in your own time_. Am I understood?"

A small, soft wave of affirmation passed through the group who were too stunned to react. Xanxus' glare intensified and he almost growled in his throat, when the voices repeated themselves again but in a much clearer chorus.

"Today will just be for me to see what level of skill you are all at." He looked at them. "Now, I hope you can remember your own names and line up in alphabetical order. _Single file_. The person in front will announce their name and proceed to cast the disarming charm, stunning spell and cutting curse at the suit of armour – _accio _– here before stepping forward to repair it and set it back up the way it had been before. Understood?

"_There will be no unnecessary talking_," he emphasised as whispers broke out. "No spell incantations are to be passed around nor tips nor anything else of that sort. Also, _you should already be in your line!_ I want you to remember the order of people in front of you and back, because from next lesson onward I will be taking fifteen house points off each and every person who is not in line within sixty seconds. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of 'yes' was heard as they all quelled under the too-powerful gaze of the Varia leader, him lazily calling for them to begin as he sunk into the Varia throne Tsuna hadn't noticed during his cursory examination of the room.

He was impressed though, he had to admit it. Xanxus had figured out a great way to keep his cover yet not do remotely anything at all. With each student having to set the armour back the way it was originally it meant that he didn't need to get up and do it himself, the only job he had was to record their progress on the slip of paper he held with him.

Tsuna had the suspicion that nothing was being written down anyway.

* * *

Those wondering: I got rid of those extra note thingies on LJ. No guarantees when I'm going to update next, either. Sorry. D:

Also, shameless plug, but if anyone wants to read some of my newer less fail stuff, I've actually started a new fanfiction account about 1-2 years after quitting this one. I shouldn't be too hard to track down, but leave a message or something and I'll link ya. /shotforever


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